


Rebel Rebel No

by percussion



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:11:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/percussion/pseuds/percussion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The seven deadly sins, hockey boys style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gluttony

**Author's Note:**

> This first sin is in honor of the Hawks winning again! The rest will probably be a little more, you know ...sinful. Title is from Powa by Tune-yards.

The entire plane seems to be staring. Sami Lepisto calmly takes a picture.  Kaner buries his face in his hands, embarrassed to be sitting next to the center of attention (though not as embarrassed as he gets when he is the actual center of attention in situations like this).

Tazer is sitting there, jacket thrown off, tie over his shoulder, napkin tucked in his lap.

And in front of him is the biggest fucking plate of green beans that anyone has ever seen.

Sharpy leans forward and pats him on the shoulder. “That is a fine dinner, Tazer.”

Kaner snorts, but all Johnny does is lift a finger to his lips before picking up his fork. He stabs an enormous forkful and holds it up, a grin slowly spreading on his face.

“Tonight I will eat as many damn green beans as I want. I will eat all of the green beans on this _plane_ because we broke. That. Fucking. Losing. Streak.”

His next statement is emphatic but muffled as he stuffs the fork into his mouth. “I fucking _love_ green beans.”

For a few minutes, the only noise on the Blackhawks’ plane is their captain’s satisfied chewing.

Then Bolly, that rat bastard, bursts into hysterical, decidedly unmanly giggles, which sets off Leddy, and soon everyone on the plane is laughing and shouting and shoving each other because it was fucking _awesome_ to win against the Rangers and not reach the freaking awful milestone of ten losses in a row.

They’re almost settled back down again when Dylan Olsen, who hasn’t said more than two words since he got called up, raises his hand as the flight attendant walks by. “Excuse me, miss? Can I get some beans too?”

Tazer reaches back for a high-five, and Seabs gives a little salute to the amused flight attendant as she heads toward the front of the plane. “While you’re at it…”

The enormous grin on Tazer’s face is more than enough incentive, and pretty soon every member of the team is munching away on a plate of green beans, even Kaner, who swore off all green things in 1998 and never looked back. By the time they land in Chicago, Tazer has gone through three platefuls and the flight attendant, bless her heart, makes an announcement that they _have_ actually consumed all of the green beans on the plane.

They step onto the tarmac feeling both fuller and lighter than they have in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sami Lepisto tweeted the photo mentioned. It is adorable.


	2. Wrath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand wrath. Self-fill for a prompt I left at the hockeyanonmeme. It fit.

It takes Jordan a few minutes to realize what’s happening when he enters the locker room, the team following him dejectedly.

Pads, rolls of tape, and Gatorade bottles litter the floor, mixing in with glass from the shattered overhead light. There are gouges in all of the benches from a skate blade or a hockey stick, Jordan can’t tell which, and one of the stalls has been destroyed outright, a plank of wood laying haphazardly across the rest of the mess. For one hysterical moment Jordan thinks they’ve been robbed, and his eyes dart toward his stall at the end of the row. And there’s Nuge.

The kid is sitting in his own stall, the one next to Jordan’s, wearing track pants and an Oilers hoodie. The left sleeve is empty, and Jordan knows that means a sling is underneath, an injury, more games off, and he feels for Nuge. He really does.

But holy shit, this place is _wrecked_. 

The rest of the team tries to pick their way through the mess and locate their stuff, all glancing warily toward the corner where Jordan heads, his skates crunching on broken glass. Nuge looks up as he sits down and Jordan recoils slightly. That awful haircut for charity that all of the rookies had to get makes him look like a fifteen year old punk, and his eyes are wild and full of a brand of anger Jordan’s never seen before. He speaks low enough that no one else can hear them. 

“What the hell, Nuge.”

“Sorry.”

The response was equally quiet, but he doesn’t sound sorry, he doesn’t look sorry, and Jordan’s never been good at figuring out when is the time to coddle and when someone needs a good kick in the ass.

“Look, we all get hurt –“

“Fuck off.”

That part _is_ loud enough for everyone else to hear, and the locker room bristles a little. Taylor takes a step toward them, and Horcoff opens his mouth to say something captain-y, but it’s Jonesy that strides over, crossing the room in two seconds flat and grabbing Nuge by his good shoulder. 

“Did your iPad survive your little temper tantrum?”

The look Nuge gives him is absolutely murderous, but he pulls it out of the duffle at his feet and turns it on. Jonesy takes it from him and types quickly before handing it back.

“Watch.”

Jordan leans over slightly so he can see the screen. It’s a Youtube clip, and when he sees Jonesy center ice he knows the hit, he knows what’s coming. He feels more than sees Nuge wince next to him as they both watch Jonesy writhe in pain on the screen, grabbing his knee.

“That was my second _day_ with this team, Nuge. I was out for two months.”

The kid swallows and nods, his eyes still glued to the screen. Jordan can see the fight drain out of him as Jonesy hits the replay button. “Did you see who made the hit?”

Jordan’s stomach drops when he reads the title of the video, and he lets his head settle into his hands for a couple seconds. When he looks up, Jonesy and Nuge are staring at each other, the kid looking as sick as Jordan feels. Jonesy takes the iPad from him, turns it off, and slips it back into the duffle on the floor. Then, to Jordan’s relief, he smiles tightly and ruffles the hair that Nuge doesn’t really have anymore.

“Perspective. Now clean up this shit.”

Nuge slowly gets to his feet and starts to pick up what he can, murmuring apologies to each guy he passes. Jordan watches and tries to remember the last time he felt so raw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hurts me to watch it, but here's the hit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EljMZJ0DE6s


End file.
